


Tempest

by ModernAgeSomniari



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorial, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernAgeSomniari/pseuds/ModernAgeSomniari
Summary: This has some headcanons I have about how the frick the Tempest specialisation actually works, such as:There’s an enchanted harness that goes over whatever other armour they wear to distribute the chemicals.Tempests wear high collars that are tied just over their chin, to protect the underside of their face from said chemicals splashing all over the place
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan
Kudos: 13





	Tempest

He’d asked Danny once, what it felt like. Watching as his ridiculous lover smashed vials of fire and ice on his chest, rivulets of red and white rushing up and down the grooves in the Tempest’s harness. Sometimes he could imagine that he could see his lover’s body shudder into the flames or snapping into hard, unforgiving cords of ice. It was not an un-enticing image.

Danny had laughed when he’d asked, told him he couldn’t possibly explain, but it made him feel like fighting and fucking all at the same time. They didn’t go into too many details after that, mouths being suddenly far too busy and all, but Dorian had caught Danny looking at him out of the corner of his eye a few times after skirmishes since.

This time, he got more than a sideways glance. This time he got Danny hot and heavy, pushing him up against the wall of the cave they’d just liberated from a couple of mercenaries. He was rock hard against Dorian’s leg, the leather pushing up against the silk of Dorian’s shirt and Maker, but Dorian didn’t want to wait to kiss him, reaching up to pull the damned protective cloth over Danny’s neck down only to have Danny grabbing his hand, laughing into his mouth.

“Andraste’s tits, Dorian.”

“I want it off.”

“It’ll burn your damned hand.”

Dorian’s reply got lost somewhere in his gut as Danny’s leg pushed between his and he couldn’t tell where his groan ended and Danny’s began. 

Danny, despite his griping, obliged with the cloth, pulling it down so Dorian could grip his jaw and pull him into a kiss filthy enough to shock an Orlesian handmaid. Everything was too hot, something acid in the way Danny’s armour caught against his chest and Dorian suddenly remembered the flask that Danny had smashed against himself at the end of the fight. The thought that the only thing between his own tender flesh and searing alchemical fire was a few thin layers of leather and silk ripped a groan from his gut to the hollow of his throat and Danny let his breath out in a surprised huff as Dorian grabbed his arse and jerked his body forward. He couldn’t get enough air in his lungs, all of it smelt like Danny and sulphur, cool clear water and ozone. He couldn’t tell which one of them those came from and didn’t much care.

They shared a quick look, Danny’s smirk when Dorian risked a look down between them telling him he was right. His lover’s body was practically thrumming and Dorian could feel every inch of it against his own. He didn’t know whether he’d been so hard in all his damn life. Fight or fuck, Danny had said. Bugger it all.

Danny kissed him like a man drowning, lips and tongue and teeth dragging on his skin. Gorgeous, angry, possessive little sounds were coming out of him and Dorian let himself lean back against the wall, smile at the triumphant groan he felt breathed against his lips - helpless and giddy in it.

The first sign that something was about to go very amiss was the low, dark chuckle that rumbled against his sweat-soaked neck. 

“You do realise that my hands are covered with this stuff, right?”

Danny’s hands settled on his hips and, to Dorian’s distress, the delicious thrust of his lover’s hips came to a halt.

“So?”

“So there’s no way those hands are going anywhere near the inside of your britches.”

This took a moment to register.

“Then why in hell are we…..you wouldn’t.”

Danny’s face filled his vision, smug and grinning and so damn happy Dorian just knew he was going to forgive him.

“Guess we’re going to have to wait until nightfall, lover.”

One last, infuriating roll of his hips, enough to make Dorian bite back a noise he knew damn well he’d never live down, and then his flask-wielding, cock-teasing, infuriatingly beautiful Inquisitor was sauntering off out of the cave like he wasn’t sporting a raging hard on under his overcoat.

Forget being a Tempest, Dorian mused as he desperately thought of Mother Giselle in frilly lingerie, fucking one was just as bloody dangerous. If those damned flasks didn’t kill Danny first, Dorian would.


End file.
